


good morning

by kemonomimi



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/F, Multi, Threesome - F/F/F, fem!Masato, fem!Ranmaru, fem!Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemonomimi/pseuds/kemonomimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>their mornings are predictable, but perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good morning

Masami is the first to wake in the morning.

She peels herself from the warmth of bed and ventures to the cool tiled bathroom with footfalls soft enough they don’t disturb her two companions left sleeping between the sheets. Her morning routine is ritualistic; it’s calming in its repetition and it is a breath of silence that sets the tone for a peacefully unfolding day.

Her routine is simple; she bathes methodically, changes from her silken, traditional sleepwear into a long white robe, and stands in front of the mirror and readies herself for the day. Her hair is dried and styled neatly, light makeup applied if needed – and at this point her morning is interrupted, like clockwork, when the bathroom gains a second party.

Ranae is the next to wake up. She moves like a bear fresh from hibernation, and Masami’s polite morning greeting is ignored most days as Ranae stalks into the bathroom and throws open the shower curtain. When the shower comes to an end the silver-haired rocker emerges in a better mood, and Masami is given a kiss to remedy the ignored message from before. Then Ranae disappears back into the bedroom to take her stand at the small, paint-chipped table she brought with her when they made the move where her makeup and brushes and hair products lay in an unorganized heap.

Rena is the last to pull herself from the sanctuary that is their shared bed, and she does so when Masami’s sheets begin to cool, or when she gropes for a body to hold and finds herself isolated. She strides past Ranae and Masami both with a yawn and a flippant wave, and sits in front of the grandiose vanity she contributed to their shared space. The underside of her hair is still damp from her shower the night before, but she pays it little mind; her hair has plenty of time to dry while she arranges her makeup. If the night before was long, she might spend a few moments with her back to the cushion and her painted toes stretching and curling in the plush carpet, but if she is well-rested her long routine of beauty regimen will begin.

Masami likens Rena sitting on her large round ottoman in front of the mirror to the _Birth of Venus_ ; Rena is the goddess, just in a sheer robe, and the seat is the large shell. Both of her roommates have seen her apply her makeup numerous times, but yet every morning they both find themselves transfixed as she dabs color on to her eyelids and cheek bones with an artist’s precision. Even Ranae pauses in her careful application of thick dark eyeliner to watch Rena’s hands move, and when the strawberry blond is aware of their attention her technique slows for them to watch.

Then the spell is suddenly broken; Ranae returns to perfecting her own look, and Masami takes a seat beside the blond as she curls straight apricot-color locks and brushes the ringlets out until they are thick waves. When she’s satisfied with the face she sees in the mirror she turns attention to her quiet girlfriend, pressing a kiss to both cheeks and attempting to slip a hand in between the folds of her robe to stroke her hands over soft abdominal flesh and over the curves of her hips.

Sometimes, when they have nowhere to be, Masami lets her. Sweet morning kisses grow hot, appreciative touching grows heavy. If either of them make a sound the third will join them on the large carpeted seat with warm, large hands and lips that taste like spearmint, like her toothpaste. If this happens they end up between the sheets again, basking in the glow of their affection for one another and their rituals must be reset and began again.

But other days she shies away from Rena’s hands, reminding her there is work to be done. Ranae pulls them both to their feet and gifts them both with one of her quiet signs of affection, though often accompanied by a harsh rebuke for delaying breakfast, and the three of them leave their shared bedroom to face the day and everything in it, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from my tumblr, with a few changes.


End file.
